Mafia Blood
by Ace Phantomhive
Summary: The mafia is a shady business that is kept mostly within family. What if you grew up in the mafia and crime and violence are the only things you were surrounded by your whole entire life?
1. Chapter 1

"Mihael!" My mother's shrill voice shrieked from downstairs. Ugh! What does she want now?!

"Yes?" I yelled back impatiently.

"Come here! Right now!" She commanded. Nobody, and I mean nobody talks to me in that type of tone.

"I'm busy!" I retorted. It's not like I was going to get up from my chair just to talk to her. If she really wants to talk to me, then she can get herself up here and talk to me.

"Mihael Keehl! Get down here right now!" Uh-oh! She used my full name. How scary! As if!

"I'm not scared of you!" I shot back.

"Better be!" She appeared in my doorway out of nowhere.

"Wow! How'd you do that?" I asked surprised.

"Have you talked to your Dad lately?" She asked me, dismissing my question.

"No, why? Do I look like the type of son who talks to his father frequently? "I said getting attitude.

"Watch it, kid!" My mum snorted and left my room. Why would I talk to my father? We don't talk to each other unless we need something from each other. So what does my father need from me now? I turned my chair around and picked my phone up from my desk. Wow! 27 Missed calls. All from my father. After a long moment of thinking, I decided to call him back. He responded from the first ring.

"Son?" He asked into the phone. Of course it was me, who else would call him from my phone? What a stupid question. I shook my head when I realized something. Oh god no, please no. He only called me son when he needed serious, urgent help.

"Christian?" I said back. I call my father by his name, Christian. I don't call him father, dad, or daddy. Because I don't feel that way about him.

"Son, I need your help. Urgently!" Of course! What else would he be calling for and calling me son. He didn't even care about me. Like that time I ran away for 3 months and he didn't even notice. But the feeling was mutual. It's not like I longed for him to love me and care about me. You grow up without anybody caring about you, you become heartless and cold. And that's exactly what I am. A cold-hearted monster that is unable to feel emotions. No happiness, no sadness, no guilt; no love nor hate. Nothing. Robotic. Automatic.

"With?" I reduce my syllables when talking to people. I feel like it's a waste of my breath, using many words when talking to anybody, especially my parents. It's not like they care about what I say anyway, so why even bother?

"You have to come here right now!" I didn't even have to ask where he was, I knew he was at our second house.

"Okay. Bye" I said coldly and hung up. I zoomed down the stairs into the kitchen. I grabbed the car keys.

"Why in such a hurry? Where are you going?" My mother asked me when she saw me. Jeez! This woman is only good for interrupting, especially in situations where you have to move quickly.

"Dad" I simply said and she understood and shut up. I swiftly walked out the house, slamming the garage door shut behind me. Once I got in my black Mercedes Benz, I sped away, not caring about the speed limit. I arrived to my destination in exactly 7 minutes. I didn't even have to knock at the door; my father pulled me by my arm inside the house.

"Son, we have to move quickly!" He chucked the M16A4 at me and already headed towards the door. I followed. A little warning before we go on missions like these wouldn't hurt. "Here!" He threw the keys at me hurriedly and pointed at one of the many sports cars located in our garage. We jumped in and once on the road I asked where we were heading. He told me the street name and I continued driving. To my advantage, I knew every single street in this city. I stopped the car when we arrived there shortly. We quickly got out of the car and my father made me face him when he turned me around by my shoulder. He looked at me in the eyes deeply for a few seconds before taking my hand and putting 2 pocket knives in it. Then he nodded and we walked into the building.

"I'll go to the right; you take the left" He ordered and ran out of my sight in a matter of seconds. He was in his 40's, but in much better shape than probably 99% of the world's population. He didn't have much of a choice, considering his job required him to be physically and mentally the strongest he could be. No room for even a drop of weakness.

I kept on walking and walking, trying to follow my father's directions. I walked through the hallways briskly. Every sound resonated so loud in this building creating what seemed like never-ending echoes. Even my quiet footsteps sounded like a herd of elephants.

"Hey kid!" I heard a man's voice yell after me. I turned around and saw the man, accompanied by another one. Both looked like they were in their late 30's. Shit, shit, shit! I can't shoot them. That would create such loud blasts, it would be equal to suicide in here, because all the security man would find me and there would be no way possible to escape. And let's not forget about my father. I might not care about him, but that still doesn't mean I want him killed. My mother would probably cry all the time, because she wouldn't get any more money from him, and then I'd have to listen to her complaints and such. I suck at even _pretending_ to care about people or their problems.

So what was I supposed to do if I couldn't shoot these bastards? I needed an effective way to get rid of them in silence. And just then I remembered the pocket knives my father handed me earlier. Exactly 2. Hm, how funny. Did he know this was going to happen or how did he know to give me exactly 2 pocket knives? Facing the security guards, I needed a way to distract them from noticing that I was about to pull my knives out.

"Hello guys! I finally found you!" I cheered. All I had to do to succeed with the plan was to keep my cool.

"Oh really?" One of them asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am supposed to give you this note from your boss. I pretended to search through my pockets while getting closer to the security men. Once I was standing in front of the two, I held out a finger, to indicate for them to wait a second. I swiftly pulled my two knives out from each side of under my belt.

When the men realized that I held knives in my hands, it was already too late for them. I stuck the blades in each side of their throats. Both pairs of eyes stared at me back in shock, unable to utter a single syllable. They fell to the ground after a few seconds. I stayed there for 2 more minutes, to make sure they really were dead. By the lifeless look in their eyes, I knew it was time to move on. I shook my head. Naïve little boys, is what they were. And it cost them their lives.

I kept walking through these long hallways, hiding occasionally from the security guards that were pacing back and forth through them. I felt like James Bond. Except this wasn't a movie. I only had one shot. And I could not miss. I don't mean literally one shot. Do not worry; I had plenty of ammunition in my M16A4. I mean chance. This was my one and only chance. But to me, this was not a big deal. I grew up like this. I was raised in my father's business. For me, violence was the only Life I did know. There is no such a thing as piece, harmony, and love. Not in my world at least.

After racing through these corridors for nearly an hour, I finally found something interesting. An enormous steel door. Unfortunately, it was locked and needed the correct security code to open it. But this was not going to stop me. This was no problem. I waited for about 15 minutes, hiding in the shadows, when another security guard walked right out of the door. I let him pass me. He still didn't see me, so I sneaked behind him and head-locked him.

"Listen, tell me the code to the door and I won't kill you." I whispered in his ear threateningly.

"Never! Over my dead body!" He shouted. Stubborn, stubborn, I see, I see. This was going to be fun!

"You sure about that?" I chuckled lowly and slid my knife out, applying a bit of pressure into his neck while slicing it.

"99809! It's 99809! Now please, I'm begging you! Stop it!" He started panting hysterically.

"Do not worry. You will not feel any pain any longer after this." I laughed evilly and sliced through his carotid artery in his neck. He immediately became unconscious his breath slowing down and died within a couple minutes, when he stopped breathing all together. I searched for his wallet and found his I.D. Mail Jeevas. Aha! This guy I just killed was the son of the man my father and I are currently after to kill. He was decently young for whom he was involved with. Only 18 years old. Same age as me. But I didn't feel any remorse for killing him. He was involved in this dirty business, he knew exactly that his life was at stake being with the mob. His bad luck for not paying more attention to who could be hiding in the dark.

I typed in the door's security code and it opened. Thank god the guy didn't think of lying to me because I would've done much worse than I did. I could've killed him painfully, but I was nice to him, killing him more peacefully than most of my other victims. Maybe because he indeed was so close to my age, and we had something in common. We didn't choose our lives. Our lives were determined only by our fathers. He was and I still am just a puppet on a string. Our fathers tugging at us, whichever and whatever way they wanted and pleased. And we had to play along. We couldn't step our foot down, and say "No." After all, we were just the pawns in the game, and they were the kings. We both were raised in the same situations, and in a way I could understand where he was coming from. I turned around to look at him one more time, and all of a sudden I felt this huge guilt feeling in my gut, when I set my eyes on his. They were so green, so full of life even if he was dead. His fiery red hair radiating so much energy. Then it hit me! I stole this guy's life. I stole something that definitely did not belong to me, and this time, this time it was too late to return. There was no way to bring him back to life. I did this on a daily basis, but I don't know why it was so much different with this guy. Looking at him made me sick. Physically sick I mean, since I couldn't contain myself anymore, the wave of nausea overcoming me strongly and I threw up right there. I stole from people every day and lost count of how many people I have killed already and I never regurgitated from it. I never felt guilt or remorse about all the illegal things I have done, on the contrary. The bigger the crime, the more powerful I felt. I slowly turned around and walked away.

I heard my father's voice coming from a room. I entered the room and stared at my father and the man that we were supposed to kill. Leslie Lee Jeevas.

"What's going on here?" I asked, giving Leslie the coldest stare I could. I saw him shudder, as if a cold chill went through the room all of a sudden. My father seemed appalled and gave me this look that I've never seen him give me before in my life. Granted, I don't see his face all too often, so yeah…

"Son, I let you have the honor" My father said and I pointed my gun at Leslie.

"Bye" I said the word ruthlessly, still giving him my killer look; and ended Leslie's life, right there, right then with a single shot in the forehead.

"Common, let's get outta here Mihael." So now I'm Mihael, not "son" anymore. Whatever, it's not like it made a difference, whatever he called me.

For some reason, my father took the opposite way out, so I could not have a last look at Mail. And again, just thinking about him made me sick, barely able to keep my food in, but somehow managing to. I think my face became even paler than its usual self, because my father stared at me as if I were a ghost or something, but he didn't say a word to me.

We exited out of the building and went back into the car, my father deciding to drive us back this time. Everything was silent for a few minutes, my father giving me these weird glances from time to time. He kept opening his mouth, as if he was about to say something but ended up closing it dumbly every time. When he opened his mouth one more time and still didn't say anything and gave me another glance I decided I had enough of this game.

"Do you have something to say?" I said impatiently.

"That look Mihael, that look." He said desperately. What the fuck is he talking about?

"What?" I asked confused out of my genius mind.

"The way you looked at Leslie. I can't even look at anybody so cruelly." I turned my head to look into his eyes, and I'm not sure if I was mistaking, but I saw fear in them.

"Your point is…?" I asked and then I remembered I wanted to ask him something else. "And how did you know to give me 2 knives?"

"Easy, security guards tend to always walk in pairs of 2." He explained as if it was the most obvious thing in this world. "And the way you killed him. In such an unemotional manner." He went on and on about me. God, would he ever shut up.

"Your fault." I said calmly. If he never would've raised me the way he did, I probably would be a loving, kind, and caring person. Maybe.

"How is it my fault Mihael?" He asked, a hint of anger rising in his voice a little.

"Never mind" I sighed and shook my head. He was unable to see his mistakes. How blind could someone be.

"No, Mihael! Talk to me!" He ordered me.

"Make me!" I shouted back, opened the car door, and ran out. I didn't want to have a dispute with him about this. It's much too late anyway now. I'm already 18; an adult. I don't have to listen to a word he tells me. It's not like I need him. He needs me. I don't need anybody in this world.


	2. Chapter 2

Christian rolled his car window down.

"Get back in the car this instant Mihael!" His furious voice shouted after me, but I completely ignored him and kept walking. I didn't even bother looking at him. After yelling at me and cursing me out with profanities I cannot repeat, he let out a frustrated groan and sped away

Great, finally! The bastard leaves me alone.

I walked around, looking at cafés, antique shops, and an ice cream parlor, but stopped dead when I set my eyes on a leather shop. I gazed at it in pure awe. I checked my pant-pocket for money because I knew if I was going to enter a leather store, I sure as hell was going to splurge. I mean, I am Mihael fucking Keehl. And what does Mihael Keehl inclusively dress in? Leather! Yes, leather.

I found about 8,000 dollars in my pocket. I guess it will have to suffice for now.

I walked into the shop, feeling like a king.

"Hello, welcome! What may I help you with today?" A lady behind the cash register welcomed and asked me with the fakest happy, cheery voice on this planet. It just can't be her real voice, no. Nobody's that happy.

"Yeah, yeah. Leave me alone." I said, completely dismissing her politeness towards me and being an ass, being my rude self.

A couple hours later, I walked out with a bunch of leather jackets, pants, and boots. I put on a brand new jacket I just purchased because the one I was wearing earlier was from my father for when we went on missions. He always bitched about how it would be so much easier to wear another type of clothing, because blood was nearly impossible to get out of leather. But I wasn't about to give in to him. My love and obsession for leather was much too strong.

I decided to go home after my little shopping spree was over. Thank god New York City has about a million cabs for every square foot of the city, so transportation wasn't a problem.

Once I arrived home, I felt this uncomfortable atmosphere lingering throughout the house. I walked into the living room and stopped dead in my tracks. My parents both sat down on different couches on opposite ends of the room, and were staring intently at me as if I was a cop that just walked in on a drug-deal or something. You get the point. It made me feel highly uncomfortable.

"Sit down." My mother pointed at the couch in the middle. This felt like an intervention for a heroin addict. "We need to talk."

Uh-oh! When somebody tells you "We need to talk", you know shit just got serious. Instead of arguing with her, I decided to cooperate this time and not be difficult like I usually am.

"Is that a new jacket?!" My father barked angrily. "Don't you already have enough?!

See, usually I would've come up with an answer like "If I had enough, do you think I'd buy more?" But this time, I decided to spare the smart-ass comments.

"Christians, that's not what we're here to talk about." My mother got in between what was going to be one of mine and Christian's frequent argument topics.

"Are you going to tell him Christian?" Mother asked him.

"Mihael, after pondering about your horrendous and rebellious attitude, and talking to your mother about this, we both have decided that you should attend school to interact with other people around your age and maybe even make friends." Find friends?! Me?! I never had a single friend in my life.

"No." I refused.

"Yes!" He demanded.

"No!" I exclaimed threateningly.

"Mihael!" He hissed at my obvious stubbornness. He knew he wasn't gonna get anywhere with me. "Talk to this child!" Christian ordered my mum and left the room. I scrunched my face up in disgust when he called me a child. And the tone he used while doing so! It made me want to punch him. My mother took a seat beside me.

"Mum! I thought we were going to move back to England. Christ-I mean father promised me at the end of this year we would. And there's only 2 months left in this year." I had to correct myself on almost calling him Christian. My mother wants me to call him "dad" but the closest I can manage to "dad" and not vomit is "father".

"Plans changed." She simply said.

"Then I'm moving back alone!" I was angry. He broke yet another promise. I should be used to it by now, but it still infuriates me when he does not keep his word. But I knew that even if I moved to another country, my father was easily able to track me down with no problems whatsoever. There wasn't a way for me to escape him.

"No, you're not. You have to stay around your family. We need you." She made it sound like she actually cared about me, which wasn't true.

"You need my services. You don't need me." I corrected.

"Mihael, don't be difficult. Just go to school! Basta!" she grew impatient.

"But why? I know it's not because of my terrible attitude you're sending me to school. I'm not that gullible. There had to be another reason besides my "horrendous" attitude.

"So you fit in and seem like a normal teenager, Mihael." She finally told me.

"Great! And next thing you expect me to do is get a job at like McDonald's!" I said sarcastically. To my own surprise, she looked down, not saying a word.

"Mum? You're not expecting me to get a job at a minimum-wage paying fast food place, are you?" I asked in utter disbelief.

"Mihael, yes, you need to fit in with the teenagers from nowadays. This is America. Many, many teenagers have a side job."

"But I already get so much money from my current job!" I complained.

"From doing illegal activities. We want you to know how it is to work a legal job." So what if my job requires me to do illegal stuff? I probably work harder than most legal jobs that are offered out there.

"No, no, no! I refuse! I'm nobody's slave!"

"It's not about being somebody's slave. It's about having a boss and working for somebody."

"I'm my own boss!" I practically yelled.

"No, you are not!" Now she started yelling too.

"Fine, look, I'll make you a compromise. If I go to school, I'm not getting a job, deal?" I asked. No way in hell am I going to work a teen job. I'd rather die before doing so.

My mother, not seeing any way out, agreed to the deal. She was about to go out the door, but suddenly turned around, looking at me.

"Oh, and something else, Mihael.."

"Oh shit, what is it?" I face palmed myself, knowing whatever she was about to tell me was not going to be pleasant.

"Your name from now on is Mello." She turned around and walked into the kitchen. I followed her. Mello?! MELLO?! Really? I'm the complete and total opposite of what someone would consider a mellow person, and now I get baptized with this idiotic, stupid name?! Oh the irony! Oh the contradiction! It's just too much. This had to be my father's idea.

"So what am I supposed to act like now? A mellow, calm, and easy-going high school bloke?" I asked, not directing the question at her, but more so to myself.

"You guessed right. Aren't you a genius" She said sarcastically.

"I hate you." I simply said and walked away. I wanted to go have a word or two with Christian about this, but he was nowhere to be found in this house. Bet he's in the other one. So I went to get my car keys. This time, the ones for my absolute favorite car. My Lamborghini. Don't ask me how much money I have in my bank account. Let's just stick to A LOT.

The idiot left the house door unlocked. Wow, smooth move bastard, what if I would have been a robber? There's a shit ton of things to steal out of this house, to never need to work again in your entire life. Just saying…

I quietly went upstairs into Christian's office where I knew I was going to find him. And there he was. In a chair, facing away from the door.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." I broke the silence.

"Ahh, son, I was expecting you." He said cooly.

"You GOTTA be fucking kidding me." I repeated.

"Mello, you must learn to contain yourself and not curse like a sailor." He said, calling me by my false name.

"I need to not go to a shitty fucking school and not take shit from no one; is what I have to do." I spat angrily.

"Look, if I get into shitloads of trouble, I have to make sure I can leave my business to someone. And you are the only one. You have to appear as innocent, casual, and likable to the public eye as much as you can. I cannot afford to lose everything. Everything I have worked for my whole entire life. Do you understand me?" He voiced his concerns to me. I appreciated the honesty, but why do I have to deal with all of this? I don't want this. I never did.

"I get it." Was all I said.

"You're going to be a senior in high school." He then said.

"What grade is that?" I asked stupidly. I have never attended a school in my life and did not know all this school terminology.

"12th grade you dumbass." He shook his head, making me feel like an idiot.

"What?! Only 12th grade? Why can't I be in a higher class?" I asked.

"12th grade is the last grade in high school. Then there comes college..which you do not need to worry about anytime soon. Just finish this year and then we'll see what we will do afterwards."

"Am I considered a normal high school kid now?" I asked him, kind of grinning to myself.

"Just the time you spent in the school building. And during the night, you're still living your life the way you lived it before."

"Wait, what! If I go to school during day, and work at night; when am I going to sleep?" I asked, just to piss him off a bit.

"Did you sleep regularly until now?" He asked.

"No."

"Well, then I don't see the issue."

"This is child abuse!" I accused him dramatically.

"You are not a child. You're starting school tomorrow, by the way. Now, fuck off!" He send me out and slammed the door after me. He just contradicted himself, because earlier he called me a child.

"Piss off!" I hissed under my breath and drove back home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note:**_ Hello, my wonderful readers! I just wanted to thank all of you for reading my story(stories) because it really means a lot to me. This chapter is written from Mello's and Matt's POV because I felt that this chapter was needed to be explained from each POV. _

When I arrived home, I felt extremely tired all of a sudden so I decided it was about time to sleep. Once I hit the bed, I fell asleep instantly.

"Mihael! It's your first school day! Wake up!" My mother's voice scared me out of my deep sleep.

"Ughh! What time is it?" I murmured into my pillow lazily.

"6:30 AM. School starts at 7:45" If I had to wake up every morning at 6:30 from now on, I'll kill myself.

"Piss off!" I threw a pillow at her. How dare she wake me up. I barely even sleep, so when I sleep I do not want to be woken up.

"Fine, as you wish." She said calmly and left me to sleep. Several minutes later, I was woken up brutally by having the fuzzy warm covers ripped off of my body and being splashed with ice cold water. I jumped up out of my bed in terror.

"Awake now?" Mother asked happily at the sight of me. I gave her the worst and most intense death glare I could manage at the given conditions this early in the morning. She shook her head, rolled her eyes, and left.

I finished getting ready and went downstairs to eat some breakfast. As I was stuffing my face with chocolate, my mother, of course, had to complain about my unhealthy diet. I reached for my car keys for my Lamborghini and got stopped by my mum.

"Where do you think you're going with those?" She asked me.

"To school?" I asked cluelessly.

"Nuh-uh. You are not going to school with a freaking Lamborghini, Mihael." She scolded.

"Why not?" I asked perplexed, not understanding the issue with driving my Lamborghini to school.

"Do you know how much that Lamborghini cost?" She asked annoyed, placing her hands on her hips.

"A few millions." I responded, making it sound more like a question because I was still unable to see her point.

"Yes, so do you think an average teenager is a millionaire and owns a Lamborghini?" She oppressed me with all these questions. How would I know the life of an average teenager? Am I average? No. So why is she asking me all these senseless questions that I'd probably get wrong anyway.

"Yes?" I asked stupidly, just for the sake of wanting to drive around with my precious car for today.

"No." She answered harshly. "So give me your car keys."

"Then what am I supposed to drive with?" I was baffled at this point. She can't just not let me drive with my car that I paid for.

"You seriously can't find a car to drive with, out off all the cars you own?" I just stared at her blankly when she asked me that question.

"I'll just take my Audi then. Is that okay with you?" I asked sarcastically.

"Do you have an even cheaper car?" This. Woman. Is. Killing. Me. Literally.

"No. Do I look like someone that's cheap?" I spat at her kind of offended.

"I guess the Audi will do then." Finally! I grabbed the car keys for the Audi and right before I left, mother had to be annoying again.

"You can't go to school all dressed in leather!" She shouted.

"The. Leather. Is. Staying. On." I said with complete seriousness and slammed the door after me.

It was fairly easy to find the school but I got there late, since I stopped at the store to get me some chocolate for today's lunch. I went to the front desk and this lady asked me if I was new. I answered yes. She asked me for my name and I said Mello. Luckily, she did not ask for a last name. I did not even have a false last name and I wasn't going to give out the name "Keehl"

After a few clicks on the mouse and typing some words on the computer, she handed me my printed out schedule. My first class was a computer class. Great! I don't know anything about computers. I always sucked at technology.

Matt's POV

I was in the middle of computer class working on my assignment when this new student walks in. I took a quick glance at him or her. Jeez! I couldn't even tell if it was a girl or a guy. The person had a blonde bob with bangs and was completely dressed in leather from head to toe. He or she flat out looked like a prostitute. Didn't even know the school allows this. I thought we had a strict dress code. I looked closer at this person, and saw an Adam's apple. Definitely guy. I guess he could afford dressing in his skin-tight leather, since he was skinny as a rail. And not gonna lie, he was pretty hot.

"What's your name?" The teacher, Mr. Ranks, asked the new student. I found the new student irrelevant, so I went back to working on my assignment.

"Mello." He answered out flatly. I recognized that voice from somewhere. My head shot up from the sound of his voice and I found him staring directly at me with those cold, hard, distant steel eyes. And then it dawned on me! This was the guy who killed my father just yesterday! And the guy who thought he killed me, but was fooled by my phenomenal acting skills. Acting dead wasn't that hard. All you had to do was stop breathing and stay completely still. And since Mello here, forgot to check my pulse when he "killed" me, he really thought he actually finished me off for good when he sliced my throat. I felt the pain in my throat return at the thought of it.

"Mello, you may sit wherever you please." Mr. Ranks told him. There were about 10 other empty seats in this classroom, but I knew Mello was coming to take a seat right beside me, because he wouldn't break the eye contact with me since he noticed me. He recognized me. Shoot! This was not going to be a pleasant experience.

When he took a seat next to me, I didn't dare say a single word, because he would recognize my voice for sure. The teacher started lecturing us like every other normal day. That we are the laziest, most unmotivated class he has ever taught. This went on and on for what seemed like forever.

"You know why god gave all of you one mouth and two ears? So you'd talk less and listen more." I wished deeply Mr. Ranks would just shut the fuck up already.

I saw Mello fuming like a madman. Surprisingly, he retorted to the teacher.

"Then why are you the only one talking since I entered this room?"

I couldn't help myself but I laughed so hard at what Mello said and chuckled "Holly hell! Damn! Bitch be crazy!" At this, Mello gave me an intense stare that suddenly shut me up. Damn, he was so scary. Then Mello stole my pencil and wrote "STFU" (shut the fuck up) on my part of the desk. I snatched MY pencil out of his hand and I wrote "GTFO" (get the fuck out) on his part of the desk.

"Mello, you're staying after school to serve detention for talking back. Matt you're staying too." Mr. Ranks said.

"What?! Why me?" I asked bewildered.

"You cursed."

"No, I did not!" I lied.

"Class, did everybody hear Matt curse loud and clearly?" Mr. Ranks asked the class.

"Yes, Mr. Ranks." Everybody answered in unison. Yikes! This class did not like me very much. Besides, I'm in 12th grade! Who the hell gets in trouble for swearing in 12th grade?! It's not like I'm in kindergarten.

Mr. Ranks walked past me and Mello and glanced at our desk. He saw what Mello and I wrote towards each other on it.

"And you're going to clean my whole classroom, for permitting yourselves to vandalize school property."

"Fuck!" I heard Mello hiss under his breath.

"Mello, do you have something to tell to the whole class maybe?" Mr. Ranks asked when he heard Mello mumble something. I couldn't make out the words he mumbled, even though I was sitting right next to him. It appeared to me like another language.

"Yes." He said obviously pissed off beyond belief. He leaned back in his seat and pulled his phone out. An Iphone. Ew, what a sucky phone. He has a lock on it and types in his password: 5554. Wow, he just unlocked his phone right in front of my eyes, not even noticing that I now know his password too. He's not the brightest crown in the box, let's just say.

"Mello, that's another day of detention for using your phone in this class without permission." Mr. Ranks did not like this Mello guy. Good, 'cause I didn't like him either.

"Haha!" I laughed in Mello's face, pointing at him childishly.

"Matt, I wouldn't laugh if I was you. You just served yourself an extra day of detention." I clearly heard Mello laugh at me under his breath. Oooh, I hate him so much! Who does he think he is?!

"But-" I came to the conclusion it was now time to shut up for good when Mr. Ranks gave me another dirty look that insinuated he was about to give me a fourth day of detention.

I kept exchanging weird glances with Mello from time to time until the hour ended. I had to keep sharp guard from him, else he would find a way to kill me like poison me or something like that. As he stood up, I noticed he had his Iphone in his back pocket. I couldn't control my following action, but before I knew it I pick-pocketed it and quickly hid it in my own pocket. Fortunately, Mello did not notice that I stole his phone. Now, I was going to find out so many things about him, like his address and who his parents are and his real name. This way, I can eliminate him forever from the surface of this planet. One thing I know for sure. Mello is not his real name. When you're the son of a mafia boss, you need an alias. Just like my real name was Mail, and my alias was Matt.

School was over after a long, boring and dreadful day. I hate school anyway, but serving my stupid detention made it 100 times worse. Stuck in this building for another 2 and a half hours. I went into Mr. Ranks' room and waited there all alone. I got bored, so after a few minutes I decided to hack into all my other teachers' accounts and change my grades in all my classes from C's to B's. I was a lazy student, but a smart one.

"Hmm…a hacker, I see." Mello whispered in my ear. He traced the cut on my throat he made yesterday with his finger. I didn't even notice him coming in. This guy is sneaky. I have to watch out more, I can't afford to die.

"Shit, dude. Don't do that again." I jumped up in surprise.

"Or what?" He challenged.

"I'll kill you." I told him.

"Not if I kill you before. And you'll die like a dog, just like your father did." He laughed evilly.

"We're at school." I pointed out.

"I don't care." He became serious.

"That's not the way to fit in." I said.

"I have no intentions of fitting in." He shot back.

"At least I don't have to prostitute myself." I had to point out his attire.

"You bitch! I'm rich! I don't have to prostitute myself for money." He grabbed my throat and squeezed pretty hard. I started coughing and chocking. He let out a devilish chuckle and threw a cough drop at me.

"Here, you need it."

"You're an arrogant asshole!" I yelled at him, my anger getting the best of me.

"Huh, really." He said sarcastically. "Look, there's gonna be two punches. I'm gonna hit you, and you're gonna hit the ground."

"Oh yeah, we'll see about that!" I said and punched him in the face. He looked at me in astonishment for a second and then started laughing again. That evil, devilish laugh of his, that raises up my hairs on the back of my neck and sends a chill up my spine. And once again, this guy clouds my judgment and I pull my gun out from my backpack and point it at him.

"This situation is actually quite funny. You know why?" Mello asks, grinning at me.

"Why?" I ask him, not finding this situation amusing at the least, and here he was, grinning and laughing at me like we were just playing a game.

"Because we're more alike than you think." Mello now pulls out his gun from his back pocket and points it dead on at me.

Mello's POV

I walk into computer class and I feel the intense stares I get from the whole classroom. Has nobody ever taught these people, it's rude to stare.

"What's your name?" The teacher asked me and I answer indifferently "Mello." I really, really, really did not want to be here.

I look around the classroom at all the students when I notice a tuft of red hair. Red hair, that was so intense and fiery, exactly like the guy's I killed yesterday. And then the guy suddenly looks up at me, straight into my eyes. And to my complete surprise, I recognized those emerald eyes too. But how was this possible? I tried so hard to remember the name of the person I had killed yesterday that looked exactly like this one. Ah, Mail Jeevas!

"Mello, you may sit wherever you please." The teacher snapped me out of my stream of thoughts. I had to go and sit next to the red-head of course. Seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes turned to what seemed like hours and this goddamned teacher still would not shut his fucking mouth up. But what really made me lose it was when he said: "You know why god gave all of you one mouth and two ears? So you'd talk less and listen more." When he was the one that did the exact opposite of what he just said we should do! How does that make sense? I had to speak up. I couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Then why are you the only one talking since I entered this room?"

"Holly hell! Damn! Bitch be crazy!" I heard my neighbor laugh uncontrollably and I frowned and gave him a death glare at what he just said about me. I was happy when I achieved my goal, and he finally became quiet. I wrote "STFU" on the table to make sure to bully him a tad more, but this guy had guts and wrote me "GTFO" back.

The back-talking to the teacher earned me a day of detention.

"Matt, you're staying too." The teacher punished my neighbor also, for cursing. Aha, so Mail used a fake name here. Matt. Interesting...But this school was so childish; you have got to be kidding me. How can you get in trouble for cursing? But I shouldn't complain. I'm happy as long as this ginger is suffering alongside me.

Then, when the teacher walked past our desk and saw what was written on it, he gave Mail or should I say "Matt" and me another day of detention. This teacher was fucking nuts! He had to be on his period or something. I cursed in my native tongue of Russian.

Then the teacher annoyed me even more by asking me if I got something to share with the class as I was still cussing him out. I said "Yes." But that's not what earned me the third day of detention. It was the fact I was using my mobile in class. This school is absolutely ridiculous. I need to get out of here as soon as possible. I'm not coming back tomorrow under any circumstances, not even if my life depended on it.

Mail earned another day of detention too, because he laughed at me. At first, he tried to argue with the teacher against it, but he smartened up, and didn't say another word anymore.

After all my classes ended, I went to the computer classroom to show up at my detention at the end of the day. I saw the stupid redhead again, working on something at the computer that required his full concentration.

He didn't even notice me sneaking up behind him until I whispered "Hmm…a hacker, I see." Lowly into his ear, as I traced his wound on his throat that I have caused. Quite the work of art. I felt proud of hurting him yesterday, but disappointed that I didn't succeed in killing him.

"Shit, dude. Don't do that again." He jumped up in surprise at my attendance.

"Or what?" I wanted to know what was gonna happen.

"I'll kill you." This little shit had the audacity to say something like this to me. Does he even know who I am?!

"Not if I kill you before. And you'll die like a dog, just like your father did." I reminded him of what had happened just yesterday.

"We're at school." He said, trying to not get into this bloody battle with me here.

"I don't care." Like I seriously cared where we were. If I was going to kill him, did it really matter where? No, so what's the problem if we kill each other at school or on the streets. Dead is dead.

"That's not the way to fit in." This kid was gonna get it.

"I have no intentions of fitting in." I seriously didn't. I wasn't here to play. I was now here for one goal. Get rid of him.

"At least I don't have to prostitute myself." He shook his head disapproving of my choice of clothing.

"You bitch! I'm rich! I don't have to prostitute myself for money." I squeezed down on his throat and would not stop until he started suffocating, gagging for air. I threw him a cough drop to mock him. This was a fun game we were playing here. And I was going to win.

"You're an arrogant asshole!" He was getting feisty. I loved it! Makes it even more fun.

"Huh, really." I said sarcastically. As if I didn't know this already. Then I said: "Look, there's gonna be two punches. I'm gonna hit you, and you're gonna hit the ground."

"Oh yeah, we'll see about that!" He full blown out punched me in my face. He was pretty strong. Then, he thought he could intimidate me by pulling out his gun on me.

"This situation is actually quite funny. You know why?" I asked him, smiling to myself.

"Why?" He tried to be all serious about this.

"Because we're more alike than you think." I pulled my gun out of my back pocket and pointed it at him.


	4. Chapter 4

I wanted to kill this orange headed kid, but then something hit me like a shit ton of bricks. For some unexplainable reason I just couldn't shoot him, even though I mostly felt aversion when he was standing in front of me, it was mixed with an indecipherable affinity at the same time.

As we're shooting stares at each other, we hear a squealing shriek from outside the room. Mr. Ranks walks in and looks owlishly back and forth from my gun to Mail's gun that we are still holding, pointing at each other threateningly. How effeminate! Only girls squeal and shriek. I quickly glance at Mr. Ranks and catch a glimpse of the clear fear in his eyes, and then I fix my eyes back on Mail making sure he doesn't pull his trigger before I pull mine.

"What is real and what you perceive to be real are two completely different things." Mail tells Mr. Ranks. I see Mr. Ranks giving Mail the weirdest of looks, so I interfere.

"You didn't see that. You didn't see anything." I tell Mr. Ranks and raise an eyebrow to indicate he should better cooperate with me, or things were going to turn out badly. He nods mutely. Mail and I store our magical fucking pistols away in our pockets.

"Ahem!" Mr. Ranks clears his throat. "Places everyone! Quiet on the set!" Did he really just say that? Me and Mail give each other a look, trying not to burst out in laughter.

"He is an odd character." I tell Mail from across the room, not caring that Mr. Ranks was standing next to me.

"Indeed, he is interesting." Mail replies, giggling.

"I think that's fucking bullshit." Mr. Ranks says out of nowhere. Are teachers even allowed to curse at school?

"Hey now, this isn't fair." Mail crosses his arms in front of his chest.

"What's not fair?" Mr. Ranks asks Mail.

"I'm here to serve detention for cursing, yet you just cursed yourself on school grounds. I think that's highly hypocritical." Hate to say this, but I had to agree with this red-head.

"Just take a seat, Mail." The teacher sighed exhaustingly. "You too, Mello."

"Like hell I will." I scoff.

"Hip hip hooray! Mello starts a strike!" Mail laughs.

"Get lost, you shitty brat." I roll my eyes at Mail's enthusiasm.

"Mello, what is your last name? I need to speak to your parents. You are truly lawless. No morals. No rules. Nothing. " Mr. Ranks shakes his head at me, but I perceive what he just told me as a mega compliment.

I smirk at his question. "My name is please. Bitch please."

"Ooooh scandalous!" Mail says childishly, probably just for the shits and giggles.

"Really?! You're an annoying fuck!" I tell him.

"Well, that's just not nice." He replies. Was this dude even taking me seriously?! I killed his father just yesterday, and now, he is acting like nothing ever happened.

"Stick it up your ass!" I yell at him, showing him my middle finger as I'm walking out the door.

"Ooooooooh!" Mail lets out a loud, long moan. "Can you stick it up for me though? Please?" When I hear him say this, I turn around and look at him, my mouth hanging open. Did I just hear him right, or are my ears playing tricks on me? Is this girly guy gay? Hmm, let's play along though for a bit and tease his fucked up fantasies.

"I like the whimpering." I lick my lips and start walking towards him. I place my face millimeters away from his, pretending that I'm about to kiss him. "Huh, I'm not going to kiss you." I pull away, shortly, before reaching his lips. He stares at me lovingly, and I see pure lust in his eyes. Then I look at his crotch. Dude got a full blown out boner. This guy is so gay, he cannot even drive straight.

"Well, that was just a whole lot of pointless." Mail complains.

I swear, I heard Mr. Ranks mumble "Faggots" under his breath and I nearly lost it.

"What'd you say, you bloody bastard?!" I reach for my gun in my pocket out of instinct, but realized I cannot just shoot a teacher on school property. I let out a frustrated and annoyed sigh and left the room. I about had it for today. I'm going home.

Just as I'm about to open my car door I hear someone calling my name. I turn around. Mail is standing right in front of me.

"There ya have it! Take it!" Mail hands me an Iphone that looks identical to mine. I look up at him confused. "By the way, nice nudes you got on there." He winks at me and turns around to leave. I reach for my back pocket, checking to see if he really stole my phone. And it's empty. This motherfucker seriously stole my phone!

"You vile piece of filth! How dare you?!" I yell after him as he walks away. He turns around, looking at me with a sly smile spread across his face. I really wanted to punch him so badly, but he surprised me with what he asked next.

"Where are you from?"

"America!" I exclaim. I cannot have him find out where I'm really from. That is extremely personal, top secret information that just me and my family know and will ever know.

"Stop lying." He says calmly.

"Stop prying." I spit back.

"Say the word 'water'" And so I say it with my best American accent possible. He looks at me as if a light bulb just went off in his head.

"England. You're from England. And there is a mix of another slight accent. Hmm…something Eastern European?" He asks me.

"But..how..did..you..know?" I asked mind blown. This guy was good! Nobody else ever caught on to my slight accent, because it was so mild and barely even noticeable. Almost, nearly non-existent. And I always tried so very hard to suppress it when I was talking to anyone besides my parents. I cannot afford anyone to find out about my Russian roots.

"I already knew you were English. Nobody uses the word 'bloody' in America. I made you say the word 'water' because that is the only word that no matter how hard you try to suppress an accent if you have one, it gives your real accent away anyway.

"So, which Eastern European country are you originally from? I'm guessing that whichever one it is, that is your native language." Pushy, pushy. This American, English-speaking individual.

All of a sudden, we hear sirens coming, closer and closer towards our location. Mail and I look at each other. He looks at me, and those mixed emotions flickering in his eyes seem all too familiar to my own.

"Shit! Police!" We say simultaneously. I go ahead and unlock the doors and notice Mail is still just standing there.

"What are you waiting for?! Get in the car!" I order him and I don't need to tell him twice, but I still saw that weird look he gave me.

What am I doing? Why am I helping out my enemy? I should just let him die…but for an inexplicable reason, I cannot do that. What the fuck is wrong with me?!

"Is that a fucking police bus?!" Mail yells loudly, breaking my train of thoughts.

"What the devil are you talking about?' He points in front of me mutely, to explain.

"Shit, they're blocking the way out!" My voice shows more panic in it than I would've liked it to.

"Give me the wheel! Quick!" He demands. Was he joking?! I don't trust this bloke, how am I supposed to give him control over the car?

He gives me the most sincere look I've ever seen somebody give me so I give in. Besides, I'm not about to die in here, not finding a way out of this place. That would be a truly embarrassing death.

"Close your eyes." Mail is taking complete charge of this situation, and all I do is comply by closing my eyes and conform to everything he says. I just don't understand myself; needless to say Mail is impossible to figure out to me. Why isn't he being vindictive towards me? He is supposed to hate me and I am supposed to hate him, but here we are saving each other's life.

After a few minutes he breaks the silence.

"Do you think my ears are cute? I think so. I really think they are, don't you?"

I open my eyes, only to find him staring vainly at his own reflection in the sun visor mirror. Are you serious? He's talking about his fucking ears when we were almost just caught by the police?

"How did you elude the police so easily as if it was just child's play for you?" I asked him, still trying to figure out what actually happened.

He shakes his head and laughs as if it was the most obvious thing ever. "You can't be a dumb criminal because you'll get caught. You gotta be smart."

"Where are we?" I look around, but I do not recognize this area at all.

"This is where I live."

"Oh…" I didn't know what else to say, and all of a sudden there was this really awkward silence filling the air. Wait! Shouldn't I kick him out of my car and tell him to piss off before I kill him?!

We stared at each other for an uncomfortably long moment.

"Heyy, you wanna come in?" He offered.

"What makes you think I would ever hang out with my enemy at his house?" I sneered at his offer. This guy obviously does not understand the nature of our relationship. "Look, we're not friends. We will never be." I made it clear to him.

"Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer." He said. And once again, I hate to admit he's right, but he was. And I hate admitting this even more, but I kind of liked him. His easy-going personality and his bubbly nature felt good to be around. Not even worth mentioning, but he was smart as a whip too.

"So are you coming?" He asks me as he opens the car door.

"Da." I say and he gives me a funny look. "What?" I demand when he won't stop staring at me.

"You said 'da'" He points out. Oh shit! I still think in Russian, considering it's my native language. 'Da' means 'yes' in Russian. I have to be more careful around him, I cannot slip up again.

"No, I did not!" I lie.

"Stop lying." He says calmly again, and this turn of conversation sounds familiar.

"You need a hearing aid, you're obviously deaf." He completely ignores my hostile comment and types in a code on the security system of his house. The door opens.

"Niiiice." I say.

"Thanks." He grins. As we enter through the front door Mail looks around as if trying to find something.

"Privyet Mama!" He yells loudly. Ho-ly Shit! Privyet means 'hello' in Russian. I think my ears just deceived me. How can Mail be speaking my language?

"Privyet Mail! Kak dela?" (Hello Mail! How are you?) A woman's voice responds from another room.

"Harasho, spasiba. A tih?" (I'm good, what about you?) Mail responds in perfect Russian. No trace of even the slightest American accent whatsoever. I have just been officially mind-fucked. What the shit?

"Harasho." (Good) The woman comes in the room me and Mail are in. She looks at me for a second and then stretches out her hand for a friendly handshake.

"Kak tebya zovut?" (What's your name?) She asks me in Russian. I am stuck now. Should I answer her back in Russian, or should I just pretend I don't speak the language? Thank god Mail interferes just in time.

"On ne govorit parooski. Yevo zovut Mello. " (He doesn't speak Russian. His name is Mello.) And then I realized something. Today, in class I was cursing in Russian under my breath. I wonder if Mail made out the words I said. Was he just pretending that he didn't know that I speak Russian, or did he actually really not catch on to what I said in class?

"Sorry, she doesn't really speak English." Mail apologized.

"It's okay. Tell her it was nice to meet her." Mail nodded and turned to his mother.

"Skazal on 'oh chen pree yat nah'" (He said 'nice to meet you') It was so funny seeing Mail play the role of a translator when I knew the language myself.

"Spasiba. Oo menya idtsi. Paka!"

Mail turns to me and says "She said thank you and she has to go now." I nod my head. I already knew what she said. It's actually quite difficult to play stupid. He leads me upstairs with him and stops in front of a door. He types in another code and the door magically opens. Is everything secured with freaking codes in this house?!

"My room is messy; as is my life." He says as we enter through the door.

"Soo, what language was that, that you just spoke to your mother?" I ask playing dumb.

"I won't teeeell." He giggles as he says this.

"Psh, and you expect me to tell you what Eastern European language I speak."

"I don't expect you to tell me. I already know you speak Russian." He says this indifferently. I was speechless.

"Am I right?" He asks after a long pause of silence coming from me.

"Then why did you still translate what your mother said to me?" I asked, not understanding his thinking.

"It makes things easier that way. She does not have to know you speak Russian. Now stop asking questions."

Then I randomly notice how skinny he is.

"Why are you so freaking skinny?!" I voice my thoughts.

Mail shrugs and answers "Lousy Cuisine."

"Mail, I don't understand you. Yesterday, I almost killed you by slitting your throat. I killed your father. And now I'm hanging out with you at your house. Why did you invite me here?" I asked baffled.

"You really want to know why?" He plumps down on his chair.

"Else I wouldn't have asked, you idiot!" I snap.

He sighs loudly and takes in a deep breath "Because-"

**Author's Note: Hey guys. I decided not to use the Cyrillic alphabet in the part where they speak Russian because I wanted my non-Russian readers to kind of get the gist of the language, and not just stare at some letters they are not familiar with. I don't even think I have any Russian readers out there, but if I do, make sure to announce yourself. **


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